Into the Night(62)

“I don’t understand...”

Macey parted her lips to respond.

“It was the skull that put things into motion,” Bowen answered before Macey could.

She glanced toward the door and saw him filling the space. His eyes were on her and Jonah.

Jonah’s hand slipped from her shoulder.

“We’re going to need to thoroughly examine the skull we took from this museum,” Macey said. “Because I suspect it’s not some ancient relic like the info card next to the exhibit said. I think it’s the skull of Peter Carter’s victim.” A girlfriend, one who’d been involved with Captain Henry Harwell.

“You’re telling me the guy kept his ex’s skull on exhibit?” Jonah sounded disgusted. He shook his head. “That’s some twisted shit.”

“Some people are twisted,” Macey replied as she pulled down the edge of her sleeve. “Some people just can’t let go.”

“So what...we think Peter Carter is good for the kills? That he offed the girlfriend, then also took out the captain?” A line appeared between Jonah’s brows. “Why everyone else? Did the guy get a taste for killing?”

Macey shook her head. “I don’t think he did kill the others.”

“But the nails...” Jonah began. “He used them on the skull. If that is the dead girlfriend, he used them on her, and our perp has been using that same sick MO with every single kill.”

Yes, he had.

“Get to work on the computers,” Bowen said. “When you make some headway, let us know. Macey and I will be heading to the hospital.”

“I want to check on Dr. McKinley.” He should be out of surgery by now. As for Peter Carter, she knew he’d be staying in the hospital—under guard—for the time being.

She turned and followed Bowen out of the office. The building was teeming with activity, hardly surprising considering everything that had gone down. No strobe light was flashing any longer. In fact, every light in the place was on, and as she walked past the exhibits, the whole scene almost felt surreal.

They slipped down the stairs, past the cops and investigators, and when they were finally outside, Macey wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the crowd that had gathered there. Her gaze swept the scene, curious about the bystanders there.

So many people were avidly watching the scene unfold. Morbid curiosity was in full effect as the police lights flashed. Reporters were there, too. She figured they’d run out of time as far as the news was concerned. But Macey didn’t stop to talk with the reporters. Tucker was handling them, and as they eased past the throng throwing questions at him, Macey heard Tucker say, “The FBI will be issuing a full statement soon. Again, I just want to reassure the public that the FBI has contained this crime scene, and one suspect has been placed under arrest.”

For suspicion of murder. “I need to see that skull,” Macey said as she and Bowen finally cleared the crowd. The identity of that victim was key. They climbed into Tucker’s SUV—she knew Tucker would be hitching a ride back with Jonah.

She sat behind the steering wheel, her gaze darting around the parking lot. There was so much she wanted to do. So much she needed to do.

“You okay?” His deep voice rumbled in the quiet interior of the vehicle.

“Never better.” She reached forward to turn the key.

His hand flew out and curled around her wrist. She could feel his fingertips brush over the scars on her wrist. “I thought we were past the bullshit point.”

Her head turned toward him. “I’m okay, Bowen.”

“He wanted to kill himself.”

“Or he wanted us to kill him.” Because she wasn’t so convinced that he would have pulled the trigger. Peter had waved that gun at them again and again, so desperately, wanting them to fire. “He attacked Jonah. Came right at him. Peter wanted to die. He wanted an out because he didn’t want to spend his life in prison.”

“Too bad, because that’s exactly where he’s heading.”

Right.

His fingers slid from hers.

She turned the key. The vehicle’s engine immediately growled to life.

“You never thought about killing him, did you, Mace?”

She pulled out of the lot. “Our job isn’t to kill the perps. We’re supposed to arrest them. Give the victims justice.” She swallowed and kept her grip tight on the steering wheel as she slowly navigated through the bumper-to-bumper traffic in downtown Gatlinburg. “Every bit of evidence we have points to this guy as being our perp. McKinley’s computer—Jonah traced the hack back to the museum. The fact that all of the victims had nails in them—just like that skull...” Her breath blew out. “Jonah is right—it does fit the MO. Peter is the right age, he’s a local, so he knows the area. He had a personal vendetta against Henry Harwell. So much about him being the killer makes sense.”

He shifted in his seat. “But there are things that still don’t add up.”

She kept her breath nice and easy. Her fingers wanted to tremble and that was why she had a death grip on the steering wheel. A shooting was never easy, and she kept seeing that moment again and again in her mind. She’d have reports to complete on the shooting, but Macey didn’t think she’d be pulled off fieldwork. Not now—there was too much at stake. Things were moving too fast.